


The Place Where You Live

by brinnanza



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 07:53:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6462034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brinnanza/pseuds/brinnanza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a grey dawn creeping in through the window when Sheppard wakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Place Where You Live

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt from [here](http://brinnanza.tumblr.com/post/130839577231/nonsexual-acts-of-intimacy-select-from-the): forehead or cheek kisses. Also inspired by/developed with [this sketch](http://brinnanza.tumblr.com/post/140420796356/can-u-believe-i-spent-several-hours-drawing-this).

There’s a grey dawn creeping in through the window when Sheppard wakes. He can tell it’s early before he’s even opened his eyes, and there is probably enough time that he could roll over and go back to sleep if he wanted to.

It’s quiet save for Rodney’s soft breathing beside him. Even Atlantis is quiet, the constant hum of her presence muted for the hour. Beyond this room, Sheppard is sure, lie the sounds of the city’s early risers starting their mornings. Sheppard knows Teyla is accustomed to rising before the sun, even so many years from Athos. Ronon is never far behind her, sleeping lightly and waking early even with nothing more to run from.

Soon enough, Ronon and Teyla will show up at the door, collecting Sheppard for a run with the former and Rodney for the early morning breakfast that has become a ritual for the latter. For now though, it’s just the two of them in this tiny bed, and the world beyond them might as well be another galaxy.

Sheppard props his head up on one hand and gazes down at the sleeping form beside him. Rodney has pulled all the covers over so they hang off the side of the bed, anchored only by his fierce grip on them. He snores and sleeps with his mouth open and it shouldn’t be endearing, but there’s a strange, fluttery feeling in Sheppard’s chest. 

This is not at all how he’d imagined his life would be, though he hadn’t spent much time thinking about it at all beyond the nagging inevitability of a violent end. This is decidedly the opposite of that: he’d never quite been able to envision years before, but they stretch out before him now, hazy and indistinct but undeniably present.

Rodney stirs, feeling the heavy presence of Sheppard’s gaze or maybe just the shifting weight on the mattress. He looks up at Sheppard with unfocused eyes, not quite awake yet, and hums an interrogative noise.

“Nothing,” Sheppard murmurs, his voice pitched low and soft. He cards his fingers through the hair on Rodney’s forehead and then leans down to press a kiss to his temple. “Go back to sleep.”

For once, Rodney heeds his advice. His eyes drift closed and his breathing deepens, and he’s out almost immediately. Sheppard supposes a lifetime of falling asleep on lab tables over half-finished proofs and simulations can impart the same ability to sleep anywhere that the military does, despite Rodney’s frequent complaints about the inadequacy of Sheppard’s mattress.

Sheppard rolls onto his back and lets his eyes close too. He’s not terribly accustomed to lingering in bed after waking, but lately he finds himself reluctant to leave the comfort of the small space, the warmth of Rodney’s body curled up beside him. He could lie here for hours, he thinks. Leave the whole universe’s ills for someone else to deal with for a while.

But no: When the alarm on his watch chirps the hour, he’ll kiss Rodney’s forehead and then drag himself out of bed to pull on his running shoes. He’ll have breakfast with his team. He’ll go to work, trying so desperately to stem the tide of death and destruction that this galaxy leaves in its wake. And if he’s very, very lucky, at the end of the day, he will tumble into this small bed beside Rodney and wake up the same way, _Rodney McKay_ written on every inch of his skin in indelible ink.

He’s not overly acquainted with the feeling, but Sheppard thinks he might be happy.


End file.
